Petalburg Woods was like the mouth of a giant beast stained in dark green, silently breathing out a faint purple mist.
The air was damp and sticky, carrying the cloying scent of rotting plants mixed with unknown pollen; inhaling it made one's chest feel tight.
Sen's custom leather shoes stepped onto the thick humus, letting out an unpleasantly squelching sound.
He stopped, pulled out a snow-white handkerchief, and fastidiously wiped the mud splatters off his shoes, his movements meticulous.
"This godforsaken place, even the air smells like poverty."
He complained in a low voice and casually tossed the used handkerchief onto the ground, where its whiteness was quickly swallowed by the sludge.
Drak, walking beside him, did not focus on their superior's germaphobia.
His hand rested vaguely on the Poké Ball at his waist—a Premier Ball emblazoned with a flame emblem, containing his ace, Charizard.
At that moment, the Poké Ball was heating up slightly and transmitting a series of fine, suppressed vibrations.
"Lord Sen,"
Drak's voice was somewhat dry,
"Something isn't right."
Sen didn't even bother to look back, merely letting out an impatient "Hmm?"
"My Charizard is feeling very irritable."
Drak's brow furrowed,
"Ever since we entered this purple mist, it has been restless. This is very unusual."
"Irritable?"
Sen finally stopped his pace, turned around, and looked at Drak,
"Your Pokémon was affected too?"
Having said that, Sen pulled out several bottles of potions; these were items he had scavenged from the black market at a high price.
They could regulate a Pokémon's emotions effectively and could be called the nemesis of irritability.
Sen had made these preparations as soon as he heard reports of Pokémon rioting in Petalburg Woods.
Tossing the potions to the three guards, Sen spoke slowly.
"Give these to all your Pokémon. Don't go dragging us down when the time comes."
The three took them and gave them to their Pokémon one after another.
The effect was significant; the Pokémon's emotions quickly stabilized.
The wind stopped.
The faint sounds of Bug Buzz and bird calls in the forest had vanished completely at some point.
A deathly silence, like a heavy curtain, enveloped them.
Only the uneven breathing of the four people and the rustling of footsteps on withered leaves remained.
"Keep moving."
Sen's patience had clearly run out; his goal for this trip was clear: the Shiny Pikachu that was reportedly spotted deep within the forest.
"We must catch that Shiny Pikachu this time."
At this moment, Cenk spoke up.
"Boss, Pikachus are as common as stray dogs on the street. Why go to such great lengths for just one Pikachu?"
Sen gave him a faint glance,
"Idiot. Some people think this thing is worthless, while others are willing to pay a fortune!"
"While Pikachus are many, Shiny ones are still very rare. Do you know how high the status is of the person who specifically requested this Shiny Pikachu? Do you know how much they offered?"
"It's even more than the harvest from capturing that Froakie colony in Meteor Falls last time!"
Hearing Sen's words, Cenk shut his mouth.
They continued deeper; the purple mist grew thicker, and visibility dropped to less than five meters.
The surrounding trees became increasingly grotesque, their bark covered in moss and fungi, some even growing eerie patterns that resembled human faces.
Suddenly, a violent commotion erupted from the bushes on the right!
"What's that!" Cenk cried out in surprise, instantly pulling out a Poké Ball.
Yuno's movements were even faster; almost the moment the sound rang out, she had already stepped in front of Sen to shield him, two Poké Balls in hand, assuming a standard defensive stance.
After a grating scraping sound, a burly Vigoroth suddenly lunged out from the forest.
Its eyes were blood-red, saliva dripped from the corners of its mouth, and its brown fur stood on end; it had completely lost its reason, like a frenzied beast.
It didn't even pay attention to Cenk and Yuno, who were close at hand, but instead stared fixedly at Drak at the back of the group.
No, to be precise, it was staring at the Poké Ball belonging to Charizard on Drak's waist. The powerful Fire-type energy emanating from within was like a torch in the night, crazily attracting and stimulating it.
"Roar!"
The Vigoroth let out a roar and, using all four limbs, kicked up a foul wind as it lunged straight for Drak!
"Protect Lord Sen!"
Cenk shouted, throwing his Poké Ball.
...
Just as Sen's group was caught in trouble with the rioting Pokémon, another figure appeared at the entrance of Petalburg Woods.
It was a tall man wearing a suit designed for easy movement, with a steady face and deep eyes.
He didn't show any dissatisfaction with the environment like Sen did; he just stood quietly at the edge of the purple mist, reaching out his hand to let the mist swirl around his fingertips.
Norman.
The Gym Leader of the Petalburg Gym and a renowned powerful Trainer within the League.
He brought his finger to his nose, sniffed lightly, and his brow furrowed imperceptibly.
In this mist, there was an extremely faint, irritating component.
It wasn't natural miasma, but more like some kind of spore, or... a man-made product.
His gaze fell to the ground, and he soon discovered the messy footprints left by the group, as well as the discarded, mud-stained white handkerchief.
Norman bent down to pick up the handkerchief, glanced at the exquisite embroidered emblem on it, and his gaze became somewhat complex. He recognized this emblem; it belonged to an advanced official of the League's Internal Affairs Department.
He stood up and looked deep into the forest. From there, the faint roars of Pokémon and the booming of colliding skills could already be heard.
It seemed someone had already impatiently barged in.
Norman didn't follow immediately but instead took a Poké Ball from his waist. With a flash of white light, a spirited Linoone appeared beside him.
"Smell this scent,"
Norman held the handkerchief in front of Linoone,
"Remember it. Then, look around and see if there are any other strange scents nearby that don't belong to the forest."
Linoone's sense of smell was extremely keen; it carefully sniffed the handkerchief, then pressed its nose to the ground, sniffing continuously.
After a moment, it barked softly toward another direction, slightly deviated from the route Sen's group had taken.
There, another faint scent remained, almost impossible to detect.
Norman's eyes narrowed.
It seemed there was more than one group of visitors in this forest.
Things were even more troublesome than he had anticipated.